Scarlet Tears
by envysparkler
Summary: AU. The Uchiha takeover was successful, Konoha is now run by the Shinobi Council. The world is at war - with itself. Brother kills brother. Monsters slaughter the innocent. Poison seeps through the ruins. Their only hope lies in a man who kills for a living and would not hesitate to massacre his own family. The heavens are already crying - crying scarlet tears. HIATUS.
1. prologue

**a/n:** this is the updated version.

**dedication:** to neji. we shall honor your bravery and sacrifice, your selfless actions to save your country, your family, your best friend.

**disclaimer:** see above.

* * *

><p><strong>prologue<strong>

* * *

><p>I was only a little girl when the riots started.<p>

I remember hearing noises all day long; screams and shouts and loud bangs. My parents forbade me from going outside, but I could still hear the sounds of death rent the air.

I remember standing at my window and watching the Uchiha walked through our streets, holding standards with a red and white _uchiwa_ fan waving from the top. I remember peeking out from the door and seeing the destruction they had wreaked, the bodies lying contorted in the middle of the street, the blood pooling everywhere, the little children sobbing over their dead parents and siblings, houses burning in the background.

I remember the flag waving over the Hokage building, red – the color of blood and destruction – and white – the hypocritical purity – enslaving us under their cruel grip.

I remember the food running out, and my parents – both upper-class merchants – going in the middle of the day in search of sustenance.

I remember waiting at the foot of the stairs, staring the door, willing it to open.

I remember waiting a long time.

* * *

><p>I was starving by the time I finally decided to venture outside. I had a tiny fistful of <em>ryo<em> and made for the first shop I could find, a small ramen restaurant.

The owner and his daughter took me in and fed me, even gave me a room. Their restaurant was famous for its affordable prices and quality cooking, and well-loved by its many patrons. Its connections to the high-ranking clans ensured that it was open and running, untouched in the middle of the chaos.

I remember sitting underneath the counter, watching Teuchi-jiisan and Ayame-neesan cook, listening to the conversations above me.

I heard that the Uchiha had slaughtered the Sandaime and the Council of Elders, replacing it with his own government, the Shinobi Council.

I heard that the Hyuuga, Akimichi, Aburame and Nara clans had joined the Uchiha in their takeover.

I heard that they had stripped all shinobi of their ranks, leaving those only loyal to them.

I heard that Konoha had declared war on Kirigakure and defeated them in an unprecedented massacre. Slaves poured out of the Village Hidden in the Mist to work for the main clans.

I heard how Sunagakure sent their royalty, a young girl and her little brother, as part of a treaty with Konoha.

I heard how the Kyuubi no Youko _jinchuuriki _– once a little boy named Uzumaki Naruto, a little boy who I used to play with – was jailed and tortured, conveniently _vanishing_ one day.

I heard how the Sharingan-wielders wrecked the country I lived for, the village I was loyal to.

It was many months later that the kind people who fostered me, took in other children as well. First, it was a redheaded girl, a few years older than me, with a young boy – both I could recognize as being from Kiri. Then, a shy, quiet boy with startlingly red hair, who shunned all touch. Last, it was a tomboyish girl who had grown up on the streets, but that one I had found myself.

It had been a sunny day, so I snuck out and wandered the streets, looking at the blackened mess that used to be my home. The restoration project was confined to the more influential parts of town, and the restaurant I now lived in was at the very periphery of it, and what people were slowly referring to as the '_slums'_.

It was smack dab in the slums that I found the Ninja Academy I used to go to, and the wild-eyed orphan that nearly took my head off before – grudgingly – accepting the promise of food.

There were many more children, but it was only these that lasted. The others died of the terrible plagues that swept the slums, or of infected wounds. There were some children who simply stared at the walls, refusing to eat, drink, or sleep until they simply passed away, just like that.

I remember pushing through a crowd, one day, as the so-called _Prince_ of Konoha was carried throughout the city on a palanquin.

I remember the petulant face, the dark eyes, the spiky, raven hair, the _uchiwa_ fan rippling in the air.

I remember the arrogant face as Uchiha Sasuke was availed as the hero of Konohagakure.

* * *

><p>Most don't know how the takeover began.<p>

Rumors abound, of how Uchiha Fugaku swept in and defeated the Sandaime in single combat. How the Hyuuga were Konoha's saving grace. How the Uchiha's prodigal heir, Itachi, defected from his clan and tried to kill them. How he – along with a Sandaime – were planning a massacre to end the corrupted family. How his actions started a bloody _coup_.

What most stories have in common, is that Uchiha Itachi was a traitor to his own family. They say that he was arrested on account of treason, but he chose to decimate half an army over coming quietly. Some say he died, others – that he barely survived. The biggest piece found of the Uchiha _tensai_ was a Konoha hitai-ate with a slash through the center.

But those who speak of rebellion, do so with his name on their lips.


	2. the first domino

**a/n:** next chappie here! things are heating up…

**dedication:** to poker faces and undetectable lies.

**disclaimer:** Kishimoto owns it all.

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><p><strong>the first domino<strong>

* * *

><p>She tied her hair tightly into a knot before securing it under a cap. Her shabby but comfortable clothes were exchanged in favor of a bright kimono. Her green eyes were pointed to the floor as she tied her wooden sandals – recognition could mean the failure of her entire mission, and would land half of Konoha into the Uchihas' ruthless jails.<p>

Carefully making sure she looked the part of the servant to some wealthy clan, out to buy food, she stepped out into the market street. Gone were the days when Konoha's market bustled with life and happiness, the joyful haggling over wares and the quick smiles and carefree laughter. Now, the vendors had bodyguards by their side to prevent thievery, and those who shopped, did so quickly, and silently.

She slowly made her way down the road, pausing next to an apple stall. The man's bodyguards looked over her and – dismissing her as a threat – went back to staring at the two guards – Hyuuga, by the symbol – who were carefully looking over the merchandise next to her.

Observing the apples with a keen eye, she noticed that most were bruised or rotten. Dismissing them as a waste of her hard-earned money, she went on her way, pausing slightly next to the two guards.

She was nearly at the end of the street when an exclaimed shout reached her ears and she quickly tucked the bulging money purse into the folds of her kimono, turning the corner and smiling. Changing back into her scruffy clothes and shaking her pink hair loose of its knot, she counted the money she had stolen off of her latest victim, making her way back into the slums.

Pausing at a old, abandoned house in the middle of the slums, she deposited the _ryo_ under a loose floorboard, and – making sure no one was watching – pocketing a few of the bills for herself. In case she had been followed, she took a long, circuitous route back to the rundown apartment which she called home.

Ascending the steps carefully, stretching over the huge gaps and avoiding the rickety railing, hesitating when the stairs swung ominously, she managed to make her way to the top floor, towards the only room habitable in the entire building.

"Sakura. How was your day?" She didn't even flinch as a voice spoke, a redheaded boy stepping out of the darkness to join her on the stairs.

"Fine. I made some money," she nodded, "You?"

"Food," he held up the bag he had brought, "Teuchi-jiisan kindly provided broth for Karin."

"How is she, Gaara?" another voice, slightly more frantic, joined them as a lanky, blue-haired man moved into view, tucking a pocketknife into the folds of his pants.

"She's fine, Suigetsu," the girl next to him said irritably, twisting a stray lock of hair, "But I thought you didn't care?" Suigetsu turned a light shade of red and muttered something about her being the only one who could cook. The girl hit him and huffed at his remark.

Sakura smiled at their antics, before knocking on the door, four times. A raspy voice was heard on the other side of the door, whispering, "_Aka_."

"_Yuki_," Sakura replied confidently, and there was the sound of numerous locks clicking and bolts sliding open. The door finally opened to reveal a twenty-year-old woman with a runny nose and a bad cough. Her unruly hair was even more of a mess as she silently gestured for them to come inside.

They all smiled at her, ready to crack jokes and bicker, like they always did, but the dark look on her face stopped them.

"There was a messenger," she let the words hang in the air, "From the Shinobi Council." Behind her, a man stepped into view, with a muscled frame, and the aristocratic features of the Uchiha. Two faceless guards stood by him.

Suigetsu wordlessly showed them the living room, and the others followed him inside, depositing their various purchases on the dingy kitchen counter.

"Please, sit," Suigetsu gestured to the moth-eaten sofa and the filth covering the ground.

"I'd rather not," their guest replied with a disdainful look. The brunette – Tenten – straightened up at his rude comment, though knowing better than to open her mouth.

"To what to we owe this honor, Uchiha Shisui-sama?" Suigetsu asked politely, shooting a glance to Karin.

"Your fiancée, I presume?" Shisui glanced at the woman. It was true that no one cared about the state of Konoha's impoverished, but – in order to live amidst their treacherous rules – Karin and Suigetsu, as the oldest, were engaged and had been, for about five years. "Are all these yours?" he gave a small smile as he gestured to Sakura, Gaara and Tenten.

"No," Suigetsu replied, infuriated that the man had not answered his question, "The two redheads are my fiancée's siblings. The other is her niece."

"How generous of you, Suigetsu-kun, to take in them in these dangerous times," Shisui said smoothly, watching the flicker in the man's eyes as he realized that Shisui knew his name.

"Family is more important then anything else," Gaara spoke up, "Wouldn't you agree, Uchiha-san?" Sakura gave a small gasp at the deliberate taunt, though Shisui ignored him and presented Suigetsu with a small scroll.

"What is that?" Karin asked, not missing the flash of amusement in the man's eyes.

"An invitation, from Ino-dono, of the Yamanaka clan," he said, as Suigetsu unfurled the scroll and read, "She cordially requests your presence at Uchiha Sasuke-denka's eighteenth birthday."

Suigetsu gave a low hiss as he finished reading and Shisui gave them all a mocking smile, before turning to go.

"By your leave, Karin-san," the expression on his face was ambiguous. Karin managed a tight nod before the Uchiha and his guards vanished. The look on his face told the five of them that the sadistic ex-ANBU was planning something.

But when the Uchiha already had the world – what _else_ could he want?

* * *

><p><strong>an: **yeah. i've decided to make shisui alive. i mean, if itachi's gone, someone had to torture ickle sasukins. so, how is it, suggestions, criticism – just review, please and tell me if i should continue.


	3. thicker blood

**a/n:** this chapter's where things get a little heated up, if you know what i mean. /winks/

**dedication:** to hotness that isn't fucking _legal_.

**disclaimer:** don't own naruto.

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><p><strong>thicker blood<strong>

* * *

><p>It was nearly midnight by the time they reached the enclosure of the Yamanaka clan. The outer walls were faded and chipped, the gates covered in refuse and filth that they stepped over gingerly.<p>

The Yamanaka and the Inuzaka hadn't joined the Shinobi Council and – as a result of their rebellion, were degraded and looked down upon, regarded as no better than the commoners that roamed the slums.

Sakura entered the main house first, removing her worn sandals at the door, and taking the offered slippers. Inside, the house was bright and cheerful, giving a warm impression on the guests, but Sakura knew it was still dangerous. Half the servants and slaves in the city were loyal to the Uchiha, and no one else.

"Yamanka-dono," a maid called into a room, "Haruno-sama and your guests have arrived." There was the sound of footsteps, before a girl stuck her head out the door.

Giving a smile to her childhood friends, she welcomed them inside her room, "Thank you. That will be all, Meiko."

The maid bowed, "As you wish, Yamanaka-dono."

Sakura had barely stepped foot into the room before she was being squeezed to death, "Sakura, it's been such a long time!" The blonde was the Yamanka heir, her pretty blue eyes and perfect skin marking her as a radiant beauty, and had the brains to match it.

"Argh – Ino – can't breathe," Sakura choked out, giving a sigh of relief when Ino finally released her.

Ino pouted, "What, I can't even welcome an old friend?"

Sakura raised an eyebrow, "Watch who you're calling old, Ino-_pig_." Before Ino could open her mouth and retort, fuelling a childhood argument, Tenten cleared her throat.

"Why have you invited us here?" she asked, curious, "And for a _party_ of all things?"

Ino quickly turned serious, and handed her a piece of paper, "I received an anonymous message, yesterday morning. It bore the seal of the Shinobi Council. It – _requested_ me to invite the five of you."

Karin hissed as she read the message, "They know."

Ignoring her, Suigetsu spoke up, "We need to find out who sent it." The probability that everything they worked for was falling apart was too horrendous to consider.

"We already know who sent it," Sakura narrowed her eyes, "The only question; is why?"

"Uchiha Shisui. Ex-ANBU, and one of the most talented men they had, save for Itachi. Sasuke's cousin. He has the Mangekyo Sharingan – a legendary bloodline that requires a the sacrifice of a loved one. His alliances are murky. He used to be Itachi's best friend," Gaara stated in a monotone.

"Stop doing that, it's creepy," Tenten said with a shudder, "Where did you get all that information anyway?"

"I read," he stated, apathetic, "It's not my fault it's a foreign concept to you." Sakura and Ino burst out laughing, while Tenten turned red-faced and started spluttering insults back at him.

"Instead of worrying about him, we should worry about this party we're going to," Karin said, giving them all a stern look, "We're already late."

"Late?" Ino kept laughing, "I don't think this party will fully start until one, two at the latest."

Sakura frowned, "A strange time to hold a party."

"An _unusual_ time, for an unusual host," Ino corrected, "Things have changed, Sakura, from the last time I saw you. Subtle they might be – but for someone waiting to see these changes, they're quite significant." Sakura frowned at her cryptic comment, but Ino gestured with her eyes that she'd tell them later.

"Anyway, I have an hour to make you all look gorgeous!" Ino clapped, sending two maids scurrying in, carrying heavy dresses, "Maybe one of you'll catch _his_ eyes."

Suigetsu grinned, "Yeah, and then Gaara can come out of the closet." Gaara turned his green eyes on him and Suigetsu squeaked and hid behind Karin, shuddering in terror from the freaky expression on his face.

Ino first started on Tenten, ordering the two men to change into the tuxes she had gotten them. Brushing Tenten's long hair until it gleamed, she put it back into its twin buns, helping the brunette into a high-collared red silk dress, with a golden dragon entwining her in its fiery embrace. A quick job of makeup to enhance Tenten's narrow brown eyes, and Ino moved on to Sakura.

Ino had saved one of her late mother's emerald gowns, knowing that the dress enhanced Sakura's eyes and nicely contrasted her pink hair. Neatly cutting Sakura's hair short, she gestured for them to pick out their footwear in her closet, while she worked on Karin.

Ino was thankfully prepared and had bought new glasses at an exorbitant price, replacing Karin's old pair, which had been taped over and over again from long use. Her mess of hair was pulled into an up-do, and she was wearing a tight purple dress with a slit up one side.

Gaara and Suigetsu both wore their suits; Gaara's mop of hair sticking out in all directions, while Suigetsu's lay flat against his face.

Ino, however, wore a stunning gown of midnight-blue silk, with diamonds embroidered in the gorgeous material.

"Wow, Ino," Karin admired the dress, "I didn't think you could afford something like this."

"I can't," and for a second, Ino's smile froze on her face, "It was a gift, from Shikamaru of the Nara clan. My fiancé." The others may have not realized the poison in Ino's tone, but Sakura knew her best friend, knew how hurt she was at their family's betrayal, at _his_ betrayal.

"I'd almost forgotten," Sakura said, trying to change the topic, "Most heirs get betrothed at this age, right? Then how can we catch the eye of an eligible bachelor, if there _are_ no eligible bachelors?"

Ino snorted, "Uchiha Sasuke had refused every woman that the Council has picked out for him. He scorns all female attention, and doesn't consider any girl, regardless of her looks or standing. Most of the other nobles follow his lead."

"He's refused a wife?" Karin snorted, "I didn't know he could do that."

"He's the Prince of Konoha," Ino smiled, "Who can tell him what to do? But, likewise, the Hyuuga heiress had declined all potential husbands, the Aburame clan follows. It is quite the scandal, this rebelli –" Ino cut off before she finished the taboo word, and breathed deeply, trying to rephrase her sentence.

"One does simply not tell Uchiha Sasuke _'no'_."

"I assume that it was his idea to have a party at two in the morning," Gaara stated, "And not to wear traditional dress." Ino gave a weak smile, still shaken about her near miss.

"We should get going, then," Sakura said, looking at the clock, "I doubt we can arrive fashionably late."

Ino had a mini heart-attack when she looked at the time, and ushered them all out, calling the palanquin that was taking them to the Uchiha enclosure.

* * *

><p>As soon as they disembarked, Ino rushed off towards a group of people, to mingle presumably. She was, after all, one of the degraded clans, and there was no better way to curry political favor than by flattery.<p>

The rest of them stuck in one close-knit group. With the exception of Gaara, who had once been a prince; and Sakura, who was an upper-class merchant's daughter, none of them knew how to behave in high society. Tenten was an orphan and Karin and Suigetsu had grown up on the streets, even back in Kiri.

Living in desolate alleyways, foraging for food, struggling to stay alive – none of that could've prepared them for this, where words were the weapons of choice, where threats and compliments were veiled behind simpering conversations, and poison honeyed into sickly venom.

Sakura – catching sight of black hair and dark eyes – immediately dragged Tenten off. Both of them had unfortunate experiences with Uchiha Shisui, and neither wanted to repeat them.

Karin, Suigetsu and Gaara were left staring at their backs, mildly shocked, until a brown-haired, lavender-eyed Hyuuga sauntered up to them,

"Who invited _trash_ to Uchiha-sama's party?"

"You must excuse me, Hyuuga-sama," Ino's simpering voice reached their ears, "They are old acquaintances of mine, and I thought it would bring them. He thought it would be darling if the creatures were introduced to our world."

Neji looked at her akin to what a cat would look at a bedraggled mouse not even worth eating, "For that matter, who invited _you_?"

Karin, who was watching carefully, saw a flash of fury across Ino's eyes until a voice cut in, drawling apathetically, "She's my fiancée, that's why she's here." They all turned around to see a bored sixteen-year-old with black spiky hair in a ponytail and black eyes. He was also wearing a tux. Neji just scoffed before walking away.

"Arigato, Nara-san," Ino said in a carefully controlled voice, though everyone could here the anger in her tone. Shikamaru just looked at her for another second before muttering _'troublesome'_ and walking away. Karin, Suigetsu and Gaara also slinked away; they had enough experience to know that an angry Ino was a dangerous Ino.

Sooner or later, they found themselves at the drinks table, Karin and Suigetsu carefully sipping wine (they _were_ after all, supposed to be nearly twenty) and Gaara with a cup of sake. Thanks to Shikaku, he could hold his alcohol pretty well, and he had no hangovers.

"There you all are!" Ino's voice came again and they all turned around to look at ther, wary of the malice in her tone. She was standing next to a twenty-one-year-old girl with dirty blonde hair in four pigtails and teal eyes. She had on a black kimono wih red trim, and the Sand symbol on her dress marked her as different.

"This is Temari-hime of Sunagakure," Ino simpered, "She wanted to see the culture of Konoha, so I brought her to see you." As soon as Temari was mentioned, Karin's and Suigetsu's eyes widened and a glance at Ino's terrified orbs made them realize it wasn't her plan to bring Temari to them.

"Temari-hime," Karin and Suigetsu murmured, bowing.

"Temari-san," Gaara inclined his head, still in a monotone.

"Who do you think you are, _commoner_, to not bow to a Sand princess?" Temari stated imperiously, eyes narrowing at Gaara's imperceptible smirk.

"My apologies, Temari-san," Gaara said, his voice still neutral.

He made no attempt to bow.

"What is your name?" Temari hissed, "I will report you to the Uchihas!" Ino, Karin and Suigetsu didn't say a word, curious at what Gaara was going to do.

His amused smirk was still in place, "You don't want to know, Temari-san."

"Like hell I don't!" Temari spat, "Tell me your name!"

Gaara's smirk shifted into a dark sneer, "Subaku no Gaara – Temari-_neesan_."

Temari stared at him with wide eyes for a few seconds before she fainted.

* * *

><p>"Gaara, are you sure you're okay?" Sakura pitched her question in a low voice, careful not to wound the <em>jinchuuriki<em>'s prickly pride. They had left the minute Temari fainted, leaving Ino to draft an excuse. The commotion had drawn nearly all the party-goers and quite a few of the guards – giving them the minute window they needed.

Gaara didn't answer, but his tensed features relaxed a little as he looked at her. Sakura grinned, before darting to the back of one of the clan buildings to change. Their dresses would be too distinctive here, though it was the prince's fault that the party was within clan grounds – his fault that he was about to be robbed.

Sakura came back and met up with the rest of them, who had managed to similarly dress in black outfits. Their opponents may be shinobi – but there were ways to win without the use of _chakra_.

Putting a finger to her lips, she motioned for quiet, before gently easing the sliding door open and slipping into the nearest room. The noise that the party created ensured that no member of the Uchiha clan would sleep tonight – hopefully this family was out, celebrating the festivities.

It was a child's room, decorating with peeling stickers and faded teddy bears – Sakura quickly passed it and moved into the corridor, lightly opening each door an inch to check what was inside. After peeking into all the rooms of the house, she motioned for them to search the next one – there was nothing interesting here.

This house was marginally more fruitful. There were kunai tacked to the walls, and traps made for unwary intruders. Unfortunately for the occupants, the traps were nothing more than tripwires and pressure boards, an easy obstacle to overcome. They knew that the more important information and items would be in a house layered with different jutsus.

Sakura tip-toed back outside and nearly groaned when she saw the guards returning to their original places. They were almost out of time. Motioning to the rest – Sakura was the unofficial leader of their little group – she whispered her instructions before stealing away into the night.

Each was to pick one house – a candidate likely to conceal the information they needed – before leaving.

Sakura stopped in front of a probable house – she could practically _feel_ the thrum of genjutsu in the air. Rather than disabling it and alerting the owner that someone had been there, she felt along the threads of the illusions, untangling their boundaries, determining their weak points before employing an awkward and uncomfortable set of acrobatics to land her on the front step.

Unfortunately, she never paused to consider that the door was similarly protected.

* * *

><p>Sakura felt herself become fully awake, her mind groaning against the pain of the illusions that had been forced upon her.<p>

The genjutsu dealt with emotional pain, rather than physical – Sakura killing her parents, Karin, Tenten, Ino, Gaara, Suigetsu. Sakura standing by as a man with spiky hair and cold, red eyes ruthlessly murdered her city. Sakura crying over the bodies of her friends and family, her hands clutching a kunai, soaked in their blood.

Trying to ignore the images – _it's just an illusion_, she chanted mentally – she slowly flexed every muscle, trying to ascertain whether she was physically intact. She involuntarily stiffened when she felt silk against her eyes, across her mouth and brushing underneath her skin.

_'Assess the situation,'_ she tried to channel her mentor's voice. She was lying on something soft, comfortable and slippery to the touch – a bed, high quality by the feel of the silk. A strip of black satin wound around her eyes, darkening them, tied into a knot at the back of her head – her hair was free, spreading loose around the pillow. The same material was tied around her mouth, acting as a gag. Her hands were bound together in smooth rope, tied to something above her head – her feet were similarly secured, she could feel the cold wood that they were pressed against.

Despite her obviously imprisoned state, her captor had done his best to make her comfortable. There was a huge pillow under her sore head, and the sheets bunched underneath her reminded her of the luxurious bed she used to have, when her parents were alive.

"I'm curious as to how a guest wandered so far away from the party."

Sakura froze at the sound of a smooth, amused voice – someone was in the room with her.

Straining her eyes against the blindfold, she tried to judge where she was – the light was too dim to be sunlight, too bright to be a jutsu – perhaps a lamp? A lamp, and the bed she was on indicated that she was in someone's bedroom.

The genjutsu that was on the door was Shisui's, of that she was certain. The illusions had reeked of his malicious, inscrutable aura and the fact that she had walked right into it pointed straight to his mastery of that particular field.

But her captor was not Shisui. She did not remember hearing this strange man's voice ever before, and tried to shift a little to see how she could undo her bonds.

"I wouldn't do that, little cherry blossom," the man continued, "I can't promise that you'll remain unharmed."

Sakura stayed silent like she had been given a choice – _how the fuck did he know her name? _– before realizing that she mighta, sorta, maybe blew their entire mission.

There was the rustling of cloth, before both her gag and her blindfold were untied, and her bonds loosened a fraction. Sakura took a moment to stretch out her muscles – not many enemies did you the luxury of a _silk_ blindfold and a four-poster bed – before registering who was in the room with her.

Her pupils contracted so quickly that she could've sworn the man chuckled at her fearful response. Sakura very nearly stopped breathing as black hair swum into view, the _uchiwa_ medallion hanging on a bare chest, a towel loosely hanging around his hips.

The corner of Uchiha Sasuke's mouth twitched, "To what do I owe this pleasure, little cherry blossom?"

* * *

><p><strong>an:** next chappie! i know it's short, but after this, we can move on to the _fun_ stuff!


	4. shame

**a/n:** I know. I have no excuse. /ducks and hides behind a random pillar/

**dedication:** to fake smiles that stretch like cheap plastic.

**disclaimer:** I own nothing.

* * *

><p><strong>shame<strong>

* * *

><p>Sakura couldn't move in fear, her eyes memorizing the figure she'd seen only from afar. Still, in the miasma of terror and shock and cold-blooded anger, she remembered her courtesies.<p>

"Uchiha-sama," she murmured, her eyes not wavering from their position at his collarbone – and what a nice collarbone it was too, perfectly shaped, glistening from a recent shower…

As Sakura watched, a stray drop slid down his neck, meandering on its path across the lean planes of his chest until it disappeared into his towel. At that, Sakura realized the path her thoughts had taken and snapped her eyes to his face, mortified.

Her green orbs met red, tomoe whirling. Immediately, she shut her eyes, her heart stuttering in fear as she prayed desperately that the split second hadn't been enough for a genjutsu.

Instead, she was rewarded with a laugh. "Relax, cherry blossom," Sasuke chuckled, a faint rustling telling her that he was putting on clothes, "I'm not going to hurt you – I just want to know why such a beautiful lady was attempting to break into my cousin's house."

"Is that why you brought me here?" Sakura snarled, forgetting her fear in the face of her renewed anger. She opened her eyes and saw Sasuke, wearing a high-collared black shirt with black shinobi pants. This time, she limited her view to the south of his face, careful not to catch sight of his Sharingan – she knew that she was helpless, tied as she was, but it was a small victory, nonetheless.

"Just because I'm a girl – if I was a man, would you have had thrown me in the dungeon?" she asked, her anger forcing away her shock and leaving her head clear. Slowly but surely, she twisted the ring on her finger and pressed the latch, allowing the small spike to pop out. A pretty gift from Ino – the spike was laced with poison and dangerously sharp. She could cut herself out of the bonds – silk tore easily – but she had to be careful not to prick herself.

Ten minutes, and she'd foaming at the mouth. Twenty, and she'd be dead.

"I certainly wouldn't have tied you to my bed," Sasuke replied, the undercurrent of amusement ever present. Sakura had yet to see any other emotion – it seemed that to the Prince of Konoha, everything was a game.

She wouldn't expect anything else, after years of being spoilt and pampered and respected as the so-called _savior_ of Konoha.

"Now, who are you, cherry blossom?" Sasuke asked, drawing up a chair and sprawling in it as if it was a throne, "How did you get an invite to my party?"

Sakura realized that he didn't know her name – he had used the name as a moniker, most probably because of her hair.

"I don't have to tell you anything, Uchiha-sama," Sakura said sweetly. Her ring had already cut through half of the slippery material.

In a flash, Sasuke was out of his chair and on top of her, his hand on her jaw, forcing her eyes up to his gaze. Sakura's eyes widened on meeting Sharingan red, her hands going slack from surprise – she'd never seen anyone move so quickly.

"Tell me," Sasuke commanded, still smiling, "And this will go _much_ better."

"T-the Shinobi Council," Sakura managed to gasp out, her eyes still staring into red orbs, too frightened to break his gaze, "The Shinobi Council sent me an invite."

"And who commanded the Shinobi Council?" Sasuke asked, surprising her. She didn't know that the nobles also knew about the power discrepancy of the Council.

Comprised of Uchiha Fugaku, Hyuuga Hiashi, Aburame Shibi, Nara Shukaku and Akimichi Chouzu, the Shinobi Council ruled over Konoha, answering to none. Or so they claimed.

It was common knowledge in the slums that every member of the Shinobi Council was influenced by someone in the background. Fugaku, in particular, listened to his wife above all else. Mikoto was the driving force behind most of her husband's decisions, though she left it to him to present a strong front.

"Uchiha Shisui," Sakura answered, thinking of red, red eyes and a bloody ruin and frightened hands clutching her own as she fell into a dark world.

Sasuke released her and slid off of the bed, turning away from her, a frown on his face. It was the opening she needed. As silently as she could, she ripped through the remainder of the silk restraints. Slashing through the cloth binding her feet in a matter of seconds, she twisted off of the bed, her ring poised to inject its deadly poison straight into Sasuke's jugular.

Unfortunately, she hadn't bothered to factor in her disorientation. As soon as she swung off the bed, the blood rush caused her to black out for a few seconds. However, Sasuke had turned when he heard the silk tear and he had her pinned to the bed post in the time it took for her to regain her sight.

The sudden movement proved to be nearly too much – the black spots decorated her vision and her head pounded. Sakura had to breathe shallowly in order to slow her heartbeat and control the nausea rising up from the abrupt loss of direction.

"And just what was that supposed to accomplish?" Sasuke said, his eyes boring into her own with an intensity that made her headache worse. He still hadn't gotten rid of the thrice-damned smirk on his face, even in the light of her unpredictable attack. He didn't even look shocked.

"Your death," Sakura spat back, her lightheaded-ness blocking common sense as her blurred sight took in the sight of black tomoe spinning.

"You are quite interesting," she heard Sasuke muttering as the Sharingan whirled, trapping her in its unforgiving gaze, altering her perception and casting an illusion.

"You might be just what I need," Sasuke whispered – words too low to be meant for her ears – before she felt herself falling, the blood rushing to her head.

She was unconscious before she hit the ground.

* * *

><p>"Today – today Sasuke would have been eighteen."<p>

"Yesterday," a light voice reminded him, "Yesterday, he would've turned into a full adult."

"That's right. Yesterday – forgive me, I've lost count, all these years –"

"No one can blame you."

"No one except myself."

The voice laughed, "You are your harshest critic, my dear pupil."

* * *

><p>Sakura woke up to the faint light of dawn, in a shabby room. Compared to the last room she'd woken up in, this one seemed like a rundown shack. However, she could see that it was clean – the floor was swept, the mats were clean and neat, the bedding smelled fresh.<p>

"You're awake," a low voice responded – it sounded almost cheerful, if it wasn't for the indifference coloring its tone.

Sakura sat up – no restraints, she noted with slight surprise – and held a hand to her sore head, straining to make out the features of her companion in the soft light.

"Here," the figure held out something – a glass of water – which Sakura took gratefully.

She'd gulped down half the glass before her mentor's voice rose in her head – _how dare you drink something without checking if it's poisoned?_ – and eyed the glass in mute horror. A second later, she'd decided that if it _was_ poisoned, she ingested too much of it to matter and she finished the glass, soothing her parched throat and dry lips.

The figure's shape slowly swam into view – she caught a sight of dull blonde hair and thought Ino for a joyous half-second before realizing the voice was a male's. Blue eyes shimmered in the light – large and expressive, if there was any emotion besides apathy to express.

She could see the frayed but clean clothes he wore, and the marks of abuse on his face – someone had gouged deep marks into his cheeks, engraving them so deeply that they had permanently disfigured his face – and quickly realized he was a slave.

His collar was drawn out of shadow as he rose up, taking the glass from her and moving to place it near the door. Sakura took the moment to look around – she was in his room, presumably, somewhere in the slave quarters. Still in the Uchiha compound – she could see the _uchiwa_ brand seared into his back, the edges red and raised, driving in the horrible brutality of the Sharingan wielders.

"You must be confused," the man said. His voice sounded vaguely familiar – as if Sakura had heard it in a dream somewhere, or a memory, long ago, of a time when there was peace.

He watched her as she tried to puzzle it out, making no move to clear her incomprehension. Instead, he moved to a corner, picking up a bundle.

"Your dress," he said, presenting the emerald cloth to her. Sakura's eyes widened, taking in the silk gown that she had discarded in a side street. She had been wearing black clothes for stealth the whole time and yet Prince Sasuke had recognized her as a guest at his party. He'd seen who she came with, who she spent time with – Sakura had no idea how long he'd known about her.

Their entire plan – hell, the entire _rebellion_ – was doomed. All because of her.

Sakura had the urge to curl up into a ball and cry.

"Uchiha-denka thought you might want it back," the man said, pushing the cloth into her hands, "He said it was a very pretty dress. The emerald brought out your eyes."

Sakura took the cloth from him, still numb at the thought of the magnitude of her mistake. Absently smoothing over a wrinkle, her thoughts screeched to a halt when her fingers encountered a lump in the fabric.

"I hope to see you soon, Sakura," the man said, opening the door for her. His eyes seemed to be trying to convey a message – a message that she quickly understood. Sakura got up and walked out, holding her dress tightly, her fingers on the strange lump, taking the turn he indicated and striding out of the slave quarters.

It was only when she reached the edge of the slums that she realized the man had called her by her name.

* * *

><p>Betrayal. That was the only thing he could see in his face. Betrayal and lies and treason – the face of a murderer, a kinslayer.<p>

No matter how many times he'd looked, over the decade it had been, he had only seen the face of an ignorant and arrogant little boy staring back at him, his sins imprinted in his eyes.

"Slave," he called out, hearing his door open and close as his personal slave walked in.

"You called, Uchiha-sama?" the voice was insolent and mocking and had he been anyone else, Sasuke would've had him whipped. But this particular man knew – one of the only few that did – that Sasuke had morals, had limits, had lines he wasn't willing to cross.

Not after what happened the last time he stepped across the clear cut demarcation of loyalty.

"Did she wake up?" he asked, looking away from the mirror, from his reflection. On a good day, he could ignore his faults, his weaknesses, his mistakes – but his reflection always showed him the truth, engraved in every line on his face.

"Yes, Uchiha-sama," the man was in the customary kneeling position that slaves were supposed to revert to if not given an order, "I gave her the dress, as you instructed." Looking at his slave was no better than the mirror – the plethora of scars that covered the thin body made Sasuke sick, no matter how many times he had seen them.

"Did you happen to get her name?" Sasuke asked, about to turn away, assured in a denial.

"I did," the man looked up and Sasuke was forced to gaze on his face – on bright blue eyes that were once full of laughter and a face marred by the gruesome work of his own family. "Her name is Sakura. Haruno Sakura."

"Haruno Sakura?" Sasuke mused, matching the pink-haired girl's name from a memory of his Academy days, "The girl that used to cry and hide behind Ino's skirts? I suppose their hair color is the same, but…"

"She made no move to deny it when I called her by it," his slave offered. Sasuke contemplated it and quickly decided that it didn't matter. _She_ would come to _him_, there was no need to seek her out.

At least this explained her startled reaction at being called _'cherry blossom'_.

"If that is all, get my clothes," Sasuke commanded, "Father requests my presence in front of the Council this morning."

"Another marriage proposal?" The man's laugh was muffled by fabric as he dug through the expansive closet.

"Mother insists," Sasuke groaned, "And you know that Father will not refuse her."

"Just accept one of them if they bother you so badly," the slave suggested, bringing out a black shirt emblazoned with the Uchiha crest. Sasuke had burned every one of his formal _yukata_s, one of the first steps in his rebellion.

"I let them dictate my life for eight years," Sasuke scoffed, "They will not rule my entire life."

"Careful, Sasuke," the slave said, addressing him informally, "They will not stand for this very long. Hyuuga Hinata rejected a proposal from the Fire _daimyo_ quite publically and her father blames you. Your parents will not protect you if you keep this up."

"_Protect_ me?" Sasuke said incredulously, "My parents only started giving a damn about my existence once Itachi died! I don't _need_ to be protected."

"Everyone is getting sick of your attitude, Sasuke," the man warned.

"Your concern is touching," Sasuke said snidely, "But I am the beloved Prince. No one will dare refuse me."

"As you say, Uchiha-sama," the slave remarked, retreating into his formal manner, "Just remember – you are a prince for, in short, running to your mother and telling on your brother. I wouldn't bet my life on that respect."

Sasuke saw red and strode forward, his hand whipping across. The harsh sound of skin against skin was music to his ears as his slave's head was snapped to one side from the force of the blow. Unfortunately, the satisfactory sound of his slap had masked the creak of his door as it was slid open.

"Uchiha-denka," Shisui stood in the doorframe, his malevolent eyes on Sasuke's shaking frame.

"Shisui," Sasuke replied through gritted teeth, trying to calm himself down. His slave knelt down, knowing better than to raise his hand to bright handprint on his cheek. Still, he'd managed to shoot Sasuke a disappointed look before he bowed to Shisui.

"Neko," Shisui exclaimed on seeing the slave, "I haven't seen you in awhile!"

The man stiffened imperceptibly, murmuring a low, "Shisui-sama." Sasuke again caught sight of the long, dark scars that marred the man's face, looking a lot like whiskers.

"Stand up, Neko." The man did as told, standing straight but still looking down, careful to avoid Shisui's bright red eyes.

"Did he displease you, Uchiha-denka?" Shisui asked, poking the slave's red cheek in fascination, "Would you like to have him whipped?" It was true that he was Sasuke's personal slave but a slave was a slave – one might wonder what the Prince was trying to hide if he insisted on his slaves being treated well.

Sasuke forced his emotions down, locking them away. Of all his cousins, Shisui was the most dangerous. Volatile, lethal and very barely in control, no one had any idea what would happen when Shisui's tenuous grip on reality broke.

They already had one insane prodigy – another looked to be on his way.

"He did not fetch my clothes fast enough," Sasuke dismissed, sounding bored, "I don't have the time to whip my slaves for every little mistake."

"If you don't whip them, how will they learn?" Shisui asked, "Neko, especially, still looks like he has some spirit left." Considering that the man in question was glaring at Shisui in pure, unadulterated rage, Sasuke believed that very well.

"I can discipline him for you," Shisui offered.

"I wonder what Father would think if you had time to discipline others' slaves," Sasuke snorted, clearly dismissing the idea, "Now, did you come here with a purpose, Shisui or were you going to waste my time by discussing my slave?"

Shisui's face soured – Sasuke had worded his dismissal of the matter perfectly. Shisui could have no objection to the statement.

"Fugaku-sama wishes you to come an hour earlier than he specified. Apparently the Council has heard an interesting testimony from the Suna princess."

"Alright," Sasuke said, "Tell him that I shall be there." Sasuke ignored the reason for the summons – the Suna princess was a spoilt brat. Kankuro was bearable, but then again he spent half his life as a hostage in the Hyuuga compound. Once it was clear that the Council would not accept the Suna princess in a marriage alliance, Subaku no Temari had returned to her desert, visiting every few years.

Shisui turned to leave and his slave relaxed – a second too soon.

In a flash, Shisui was in front of the man. "With only one cheek red, you look quite lopsided, Neko," he jeered, drawing out the kunai in a blink, "Let's fix you up!"

Sasuke could do nothing but watch as Shisui brought the kunai on his slave's face. He couldn't see what his cousin was doing but the man's fists had clenched in obvious pain, knowing better than to cry out – there was nothing Shisui liked more than the sound of his victims screaming in agony.

"There," Shisui drew back to admire his work and Sasuke felt sick, down to the depths of his stomach. He was the availed hero of a clan of murderers and liars and depraved torturers and he could not stop a single one of them.

"Much better, right, Neko?" Shisui smiled – sharp and slightly off-kilter. His slave was forced to nod mutely, teeth gritted with the effort to remain silent.

"Goodbye, Uchiha-denka," Shisui said cheerfully, walking out the door.

Sasuke nearly broke the door in his rush to close and lock it. Once he'd bolted it securely, he tore a scrap from the towel lying on his chair, dousing it in _sake_ before handing it to the man.

The slave pressed it against the deep gash under his right eye, spilling red blood down his face and staining his cheek. The gash would scar, joining its brothers to create the grotesque mask the slave wore, to conceal his most identifying birthmark.

"Better alive than dead," Sasuke croaked out, watching the slave wipe his face clean with a blank expression, unable to stop the pit of guilt from widening further. Soon, he'd be at the edge, teetering back and forth, waiting for just one more lie to crumble the ground beneath his feet.

"Better an Uchiha slave than dead?" the man chuckled without any amusement, "It's a difficult choice, Sasuke."

"If I stop him, it will raise too many questions," Sasuke said, trying to justify his inaction. Even to his own ears, the excuse rang hollow.

"I know, Sasuke," the man turned away, "I don't blame you." But Sasuke knew that he did – he had promised to help him when he found out, just a boy whimpering in a dark cell, beaten and almost broken.

Sasuke had promised to protect him and he broke that promise, every day.

"They disguise you," Sasuke said feebly, "Every scar makes you less recognizable – there are still people who are suspicious."

The statement was met with a flat stare of incredulity. "Before, I was feared and hated – a monster, a demon. Now, I am regarded as less than human.

"Tell me, Sasuke," Naruto said coldly, "What would you choose?"

* * *

><p><strong>an:** you probably saw that coming.


End file.
